


The Big O

by SKJC



Category: Ted Lasso (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Series, the title is a pun don't judge me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKJC/pseuds/SKJC
Summary: In the spring of 2015, the CONCACAF Champions League final is contested by Canada's Montreal Impact and Mexico's Club América.Dani skips the team afterparty and finds something else to do.
Relationships: Thierry Zoreaux/Dani Rojas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	The Big O

**Author's Note:**

> First: The title is a reference to the nickname of Montreal's Olympic Stadium, because I may have a large number of deep-seated issues but I can't resist a terrible joke. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Second: I was reading the Wikipedia article about the Montreal Impact (as one does), and that's where I got this idea, but I was just going to incorporate it into Whiplash as a bit of Dani's backstory rather than actually write it. 
> 
> Then, someone on Tumblr was talking about wanting to read a Dani/Zoreaux fic so I was like, hmm, I could do that also.

Dani does not like Montreal. The weather when they leave home is twenty-four degrees and sunny. It’s dreary, grey, and half that temperature when they step off the plane. 

“If you want to play in Europe you need to toughen up, little brother.” Carlos shoves him roughly between the shoulder blades when he mentions the temperature while walking up the jetway. “Your idols in England play in the fucking snow all winter long.”

Carlos isn’t wrong, they’ve watched matches in the snow on television, but Dani has only seen snow in person and up close a handful of times. Playing football in it sounds like one of the craziest ideas he’s ever heard. At least right now it’s not that cold here, and there’s just rain.

Club América isn’t his place yet and he doesn’t know if it ever will be. Right now he’s the new kid a few months into a short-term loan, a sub to bring fresh energy into the match if the wingers are looking tired. He isn’t really a winger and he also isn’t the kind of striker they really want to play, but it’s a good opportunity so he’ll play wherever he has to. 

A lot of people speak French in the hotel, and when they go out to eat, but he had been hoping to practice his English. The hotel staff look at him with disdain when he tries and he isn’t sure if the problem is him or them. 

*

The Impact score first, just like in the first leg, this time to the delight of the home fans. _Estadio Azteca_ had gone dead silent, but the old Olympic Stadium erupts around them, and Dani thinks how awful it’s going to look if they actually manage to lose this to a MLS club.

Dani gets subbed in at the forty-first minute when one of the wingers pulls a hamstring, and the manager screams at them in the dressing room at the break, tells them all to stop playing like a bunch of stupid little girls. 

He doesn’t love the coaching style but somehow, it seems to work for everyone else. They seem to awaken just minutes into the second half, and then the scoreboard finally looks like he would expect. Montreal manage one more as a consolation, but they still win 4-2 on the day and 5-3 on aggregate regardless.

  
  


*

The hotel bar isn’t crowded and no one bothers him while he nurses a watered-down mixed drink that he forgot the name of as soon as he had ordered it. The rest of the team is celebrating pretty hard upstairs, but the order of the night in Carlos’s suite seems to be expensive tequila and pretty girls, and while he’s fine with the former, the latter is less to his taste. 

He isn’t unhappy or lonely, not really, but it’s tiring to make excuses while everyone else has fun. So, he watches the second half of the match replay on the television, picks apart his passing and the quality of his touches, sighs as Montreal’s keeper deflects his late-game shot on goal.

The save is replayed twice, and the only reason Dani doesn’t mind seeing it is as much as he probably should is that the goalkeeper is ridiculously handsome. Watching him leap to a full stretch, pushing his lithe body to the limit to punch the ball away, isn’t the worst thing out of context. He’d feel differently about it if they’d lost, of course, but looking on the bright side is kind of his thing.

“We did put up a good fight,” someone says wistfully from behind him, and he swivels on his stool to see the same man taking the seat to his left. 

“Yes,” Dani agrees, surprised. He tries to think whether he saw first names on the Impact’s roster that morning and doesn’t think so, and the broadcast has only used the keeper’s last name. “I’m Dani,” he adds, and holds his hand out in greeting, then realizes how stupid he sounds because the television announcer definitely just used his own first name.

“Thierry.” He doesn’t comment further and shakes Dani’s hand, then waves the bartender down for a beer. “So why are you down here alone? Not popular with your club?”

Dani shrugs at the blunt question - he’s wondered the same himself - and replies honestly in return. “We are still fighting for our league trophy, and my brother throws more wild celebration parties than I like.”

“Ah.” Thierry smirks knowingly. “You must be the manager’s favorite. All business. No drinking, no girls, no parties.”

Dani holds his drink up and makes a point to ignore the comment about girls. “I do have a drink,” he says, and tries to make sure he phrases the next part right in English. “And he says to me today, ‘do not fuck this up, you little idiot,’ so if I am his favorite, he does not know about it.” 

Thierry snorts into his beer. “Some of them are just like that.”

Dani nods his agreement, finishes off his watered-down drink and shoves the glass across the bar. He says no to the bartender when he thinks the question is whether he wants another before turning his attention back to the conversation. 

“Do you stay in hotels after playing at home?”

“Not usually. I was optimistic about getting to celebrate,” Thierry says dryly. 

The match continues on the TV above their heads and Dani points out the same maneuver where the Impact’s center backs lost Carlos more than once. He feels a bit like a traitor but it’s not like their tactical coach won’t see it too.

“Trust me, I made sure they knew.” There’s an air of calm confidence in Thierry’s tone that sends a thrill through Dani’s bones. “It just didn’t help.” 

Dani’s wondering if he’s imagining things, but he can see Thierry watching him out of the corner of his eye. He’s done this before, he might be only twenty and his judgement isn't always the greatest but he’s not actually an idiot. 

On the screen, the final whistle blows, and Thierry sets down his empty bottle as the camera view pans over the dejected crowd. “Any other plans tonight?” 

“No.” Dani forces his expression to stay neutral; he knows how this is meant to be orchestrated if he’s reading it right. 

“Want to get out of here?” The question is smooth as butter, lower and quieter than the last, accompanied by a sideways glance that says the same thing in any city in the world regardless of what language they speak. 

Dani stands up from the bar, then, and finally allows a smile to spread across his face. “Let’s go.”

He looks Thierry over in the elevator - not too openly, he knows security cameras exist and won’t tempt fate that much - and thinks that the casual clothes suit him. His shirt is just fitted enough without looking too small, so it doesn’t look like he’s trying to show off the width of his shoulders or the diameter of his biceps. 

Dani appreciates both, whether the effect is intentional or not. He has to admit there’s something about goalkeepers, and maybe it’s because he’s used to staring them down in a penalty shootout or beating them in a one-on-one, but so many of them emanate an energy that’s impassive and just a bit controlling that he’s really into.

Thierry’s hand settles at the small of his back when the heavy door to the hotel room clicks shut behind them. “Usually I would ask if you wanted a drink, but with you being the manager’s favorite and all...” 

Dani laughs at that. He doesn’t want a drink and he wouldn’t be anybody’s favorite if they knew what he did want just then, but that doesn’t matter, especially not when Thierry’s other hand finds the nape of his neck and pulls him in for a rough kiss that promises this should be a fun night.

Minutes later, he’s wriggling out of his jeans while hot breaths ghost over his neck and teeth nip at his jawline, and it’s distracting in the best possible way, but eventually they’ve both gotten rid of their clothes.

Thierry just looks him over hungrily for a moment and when Dani does the same in return, the angles of the lean form before him are a perfect reminder of why he keeps doing this even though it’s always a terrible idea.

They manage to make it to the bed even with their hands all over each other, and Thierry sits down, tries to pull Dani with him, but Dani drops to his knees on the carpet instead and runs his hands up and down muscular thighs, appreciating the deep sigh of anticipation from above him. 

It’s been a while since he’s had the chance to do this and he’s been told he’s pretty good at it. Thierry has a great cock, thick and hot on his tongue. Dani hums when fingers tangle in his hair, pulling just enough that he can feel it, and he grasps the base and swirls his tongue around the head on each downstroke. 

Soon, Thierry is saying his name and something in French, and Dani pulls back and grins up at him, able to take the hint well enough from the choked tone of his voice. 

“You have any, ah…” He doesn’t usually do this in other languages, thinks that the words are similar but the Rosetta Stone program on his laptop doesn’t have a chapter on fucking strangers and he doesn’t want to sound stupid when he’s got his hand on someone’s dick. “You know,” he finishes the sentence lamely. 

“I do, yeah,” Thierry pants, and Dani arranges himself on the bed and watches while he goes over to rummage through a suitcase on a chair. 

His ass is as fantastic as the rest of him and Dani lays back and strokes himself lazily while he enjoys the view. He likes strong arms and long legs but he can appreciate the work that goes into a nice ass just the same. 

He wants to ask Thierry to fuck him against the wall, just because he’s sure he could. That’s a stupid idea in a hotel, of course, unless they want security knocking on the door about noise complaints, but it doesn’t mean he can’t imagine it. 

Thierry comes back with a condom packet and a tiny bottle of lube and settles between Dani’s legs. He pushes Dani’s hand away and replaces it with his own, looking like he wants to devour him, and Dani shivers reflexively.

“How do you want me?” He asks, because barring his previous idea, he doesn’t have much of a preference as long as he gets off.

“You’re the one with a six hour flight tomorrow, you tell me.” 

That’s more considerate than Dani was expecting and he’s a little thrown by it, but it’s nice. “You think a lot of yourself,” he jokes, even though Thierry really is big enough that he thinks he really might feel it tomorrow regardless of exactly how he gets fucked. “Like this is all right.” 

Thierry snorts and rolls his eyes, but he lets go of Dani’s cock and lifts him up by his thighs. The apparent lack of effort it takes him makes Dani’s mouth go dry and yeah, _that_ is definitely why he keeps doing things like this. 

He watches Thierry squeeze lube onto his fingers, then leans his head back and lets his eyes close as the cold gel gets slicked over his hole. He arches up into the touch when one finger eases inside him, and whimpers quietly a minute later when two replace it. 

“Too fast?” Thierry asks, just as his fingers curl over the spot that makes stars explode behind Dani’s eyes, and he somehow manages to make the question sound hot. 

“No, perfect,” Dani gasps, shaking his head, and his cock leaks against his belly when Thierry repeats the motion a few more times, gradually adding more lube in the process. “Ah, you can, when you want,” he stammers out, and he hates that he’s never been able to pull off the cool and collected attitude in bed himself, because he’s not some blushing virgin but always ends up a stuttering mess regardless.

Thierry makes a low sound in the back of his throat and leans over Dani to kiss him again, messy and wanting, as he removes his fingers. 

Dani opens his eyes again to watch Thierry tear open the foil packet and quickly roll the condom down, and whines desperately when Thierry lifts his legs up and practically folds him in half to press slowly into him. He moans into another sloppy kiss when they pause for a second to let him adjust to the intrusion, and he’s once again a little surprised at the consideration.

He’ll definitely feel it tomorrow, he thinks, once they get a rhythm going that makes him feel like the world has temporarily ceased to exist outside of this room. But, it will be absolutely worth it, because watching Thierry’s composure slowly evaporate while he fucks him is just about the hottest thing he’s ever seen. 

He’s almost completely incoherent by the time he comes, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s glad he has the awareness to muffle his cries into Thierry’s shoulder or they might have had a noise complaint to worry about after all. 

Once they both catch their breath, Thierry gets up and fetches him a washcloth and a glass of water, and Dani wonders if maybe this is just how people act when they have one night stands with strangers in Canada. If he didn’t have an early flight he might be tempted to stay the night with this man who’s been more considerate in a couple of hours than someone else had been for the entirety of his last and only relationship.

“Thanks,” he says, and then feels strangely self-conscious while Thierry watches him get dressed wearing one of the hotel robes. “Ah, I would stay, but…”

“No, I get it,” Thierry says, chuckling as he walks him to the door. “Go sleep before your flight or your manager might think you’ve gotten up to something.”

Dani laughs and tries once more to fix his hair before he steps into the hall. “See you around?”

“There’s always next year, right?” 


End file.
